


Orange Crush

by Liminal_Space_LLC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, canon-typical alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:45:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liminal_Space_LLC/pseuds/Liminal_Space_LLC
Summary: Nursey lifts his head, and his hand is in Dex’s hair—when did that happen?





	Orange Crush

Nursey lifts his head, and his hand is in Dex’s hair—when did that happen? He sips his drink and remembers it’s a Moscow Mule. He loves Moscow Mules. He found the only copper cup in a hundred miles, and he made himself an actual Moscow Mule in the disgusting kitchen of this frat house. God, he is so glad that Bitty takes care of the Haus. It is so nice.

Dex interrupts his train of thought, “Yeah, we live in the nicest frat in the world.”

He stares at Dex, contemplating how Dex could possibly read his mind, and realizes he still has his fingers threaded through Dex’s hair.

“You’re speakin’ out loud, dumbass.”

“Oh.” Nursey can feel his throat burn from yelling over the crowd. Shit.

He makes an effort to stop his jaw from moving, so his thoughts can’t slink out off his tongue. He looks at the thronging crowd, but he can’t stop feeling Dex’s fine, coppery hair in his fingers. It’s sweaty and gross, but Janelle Monáe is playing over the speakers, and everything is good right now, and Dex’s sweaty hair feels like sex under his palm. He should take his hand away—he remembers deciding this was a bad idea at some point, but for the life of him he can’t remember why. It had seemed well-reasoned at the time.

Dex is saying something. “… _an emotional, sexual bender. That’s just the way you make me feel_ —” He stops abruptly when he notices Nursey is looking at him. Why? He was just singing along. They like this song. They have dance parties with Chowder and Cait to this song.

Dex is just looking at him now, his mouth open like he’s panting. A bead of glimmering sweat slips down his temple and traces his jawline. He’s so pale, under the party lights he seems to glow with each color. Green Dex has shimmering cheeks, red Dex is blushing down to his toes, blue Dex has a lock of hair curling sweetly against his forehead, purple Dex has freckles strewn like brown shells on a pale night beach, orange Dex has lips so soft—

“Nursey? Are you there?”

Nursey blinks. Of course he is there. He was just thinking about Orange Dex.

“Yeah? Why?” he answers. Orange Dex, orange Dex, orange Dex. What did he look like?

“Well you’re kinda staring at me.” Dex’s brow is furrowed, like when they’re one down in the third period. It changes his whole aesthetic.

Nursey doesn’t really think before he answers, just lets the words spooling in his brain tumble out, “You’re so pretty, Dex.” He feels his mouth make them, and then realizes his hand is still in Dex’s hair. Fuck. This is definitely the exact bad idea he decided against before. Shit. “I mean, you are very nice to look at.” Goddammit, that’s worse.

Dex is just staring at him now, his eyebrows raised like when Jack and Bitty kissed after the Stanley Cup Final. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, and Nursey watches it. In his defense, he thinks, it is a very shiny Adam’s apple by now. It really catches the eye when it moves.

“You’re nice to look at, also,” he says, just loud enough that Nursey can hear over the party. Nursey feels his skin burn hot. His fingers curl against Dex’s neck.

It comes to him. Orange Dex has lips so soft it would be like kissing a butterfly. A plaid butterfly, he jokes to himself. When did this white boy’s lips get so soft? He could just pull him in and—

Dex’s hand is on his upper arm. “Nursey, we should getcha back to the Haus.”

Nursey smiles his most wicked smile. “You think I’m that nice to look at?”

Dex takes his hand off his arm so fast, it’s like he’s been burned. He licks his lips, and Nursey watches the tip of his tongue. “You’re fuckin’ drunk. Come on, we need to getcha inna bed.” He grabs Nursey’s wrist from off his shoulder, extracting his fingers from where they are playing with his ear, and Nursey stumbles after him.

Dexy leads him to Chowder and Cait, which is great – Cait looked so cute, Nursey wants to give her a big hug, so he does. Her hair smells like Aloe and sandalwood, and he can hear her say something, even through the party. “That’s a good idea, Chris. I think Nursey will appreciate that tomorrow.”

“What will I apriss-appreciate Caity milady?”

She hugs him close. “Dex is gonna sleep on the green couch, babe.”

He nods. That’s probably a good thing; he can’t execute any bad ideas when he can’t see Dex’s mouth.

He follows Dex back to the haus, drifting lazily across the frosted campus. It looks eerie under the purple-orange sky. In the cool air, Nursey feels his head lose some of its fuzziness, and he stops stumbling into Dex so much. They talk quietly (or maybe loudly, who knows) about random crap. How shitty the beer was, the pros and cons of their favorite albums, that asshole from the model UN team who Tango brought (“They said Annie’s coffee was 'lacking a robust flavah palate.'” “Well, they can fuck off, then.”)

They fumble to find the keys to the Haus and fall sideways into the pie-scented dark when Dex finally opens it. No one else has come back yet, it seems. Dex helps him upstairs, forcing him to drink two purple Gatorades and brush his teeth before burying himself in his sheets. Dex smirks at him in the lamplight as he nuzzles his pillow. In the low light, Dex’s hair shines orange.

Orange Dex, with his nice nice mouth, flicking off the light and walking through a pool of moonlight.

“Dexy,” he calls after the dark shape in the doorway. He stops.

“Ayuh?”

“You’ll still be a pretty boy tomorrow, I promizz.” His bed is soft soft soft.

“Oh. Um, thanks. Tomorreh, um, then tomorreh we can, um, I’ll, um… I’ll make you chocolate chip waffles. With, uh, whipped cream.”

“Yum yum.” It is lovely and toasty, like he’s getting nice big hug. Like he’s wrapped in fresh new waffles.

“G’night, Nursey.”

“G’night.” And he falls into a sweet haze of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, you can find me on tumblr as [liminal-space-llc](https://liminal-space-llc.tumblr.com).


End file.
